


in the shadow of men who sold their lives to a dream

by blackkat



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [111]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, Flirting, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 10:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Zabuza fishes a dying Konoha nin out of the Nakano. That one action is the falling stone that kicks off an avalanche.





	in the shadow of men who sold their lives to a dream

Shisui wakes shivering, gasping, clawing at the blindfold tied around his eyes, with his heart racing in his chest and only darkness around him.

“Hey, _easy_ ,” a sharp voice says, and callused finger catch his wrists, pull them down. Shisui lashes out automatically, bringing one foot up to—

Pain. Fire-hot-sharp, unexpected, and he cries out, letting his leg drop, hissing through his teeth. Broken, he thinks. His leg is broken, and he’s blindfolded, and there's a shinobi holding him down.

And then a hand settles over his forehead, smelling like metal and honing oil and herbs, and that voice says, more quietly, “Calm the hell down, I set your leg but if you keep jerking around like a landed fish you’re going to fuck it up too badly for me to fix.”

 _Help_ , Shisui thinks, or at least not active harm, and a lot of time that’s enough. He nods breathlessly, still trying to get his adrenaline under control, and as soon as the man’s grip on him loosens he jerks his hand down to the blindfold. Smart, to cover and Uchiha's eyes—

“ _No_ ,” the man says firmly, catching his fingers. “I'm not a medic, but even I know not to leave wounds like that uncovered. Someone ripped your eyes out. Leave that bandage alone.”

 _Ripped out your eyes_ , and for a moment Shisui can't comprehend it, can't understand the words. And then his mind jars, shudders back into working order, and he sucks in a desperate breath. “ _Danzō_ ,” he says, lashing out blindly, grabbing a thick forearm and hauling the stranger closer. “Damn it, Danzō has—my eyes, he took them, I _need_ to get them back—”

“You’ve been out of it for a week,” the man says, careful but not a denial. “If what you’re panicking about is time-sensitive you might be out of luck.”

A week is…bad. Not as bad as it could be, though. Shisui lets out a shuddering breath, gets his elbow under himself and sits up with a grimace. Danzō has one of his eyes, and Itachi has the other. Maybe Itachi managed to do what Shisui wanted him to and brainwashed the clan, but Kotoamatsukami is a powerful technique, and Shisui's not certain any Uchiha not born with it can use it. He needs to make sure. Needs to tell the Hokage what Danzō did. The Uchiha didn’t have any plans to move yet when he went to meet Danzō, and that means Shisui might just make it in time.

There was poison. Danzō _poisoned_ him to make it easier to steal his Sharingan, and in the grip of whatever it was it seemed like the best idea in the world to kill himself. Had seemed like a solution, like Danzō was speaking the truth, but—

Shisui was willing to implant a suggestion in every single member of his clan to keep them from starting the coup, to make them loyal to Konoha over all else. He’s willing to betray all of them to keep them alive. There's no way he’ll give up on them so easily.

There's a quiet knock against wood, a shift. “Yeah, Haku?” the man calls.

Shisui listens to the creak of the door, the faint impact of shinobi-silent steps, the slightly louder click of china. “Zabuza, the innkeeper didn’t know of a doctor,” a child says. “Should I go to the next town and ask there?”

A pause, and Zabuza sighs roughly. “No,” he says, and a hand touches Shisui's elbow. “Hey. We taking you back to Konoha?”

“Please,” Shisui says, and his pulse is close to frantic in his throat. “I need—have you heard anything? Is there—”

“No news since I fished you out of the river,” Zabuza says, and nudges Shisui hard, urging him back down. “You need to rest that leg at least another night. Haku, I need shit for a splint. Maybe some painkillers.”

“Just the splint,” Shisui says stubbornly. He can deal with pain; he’s always had the highest pain tolerance in ANBU, which is a mixed blessing. Good in this case, though. There's no time to spend on extra. They just need to _go_.

“Yes, Zabuza,” Haku says pointedly, ignoring Shisui, and there are quick steps before the door shuts again.

“Ouch,” Shisui jokes into the silence. “Was that cold or was it just me?”

Zabuza snorts, and a pillow bumps the top of Shisui's head. “Haku's good at cold,” he says, sounding amused. “Head up. You missed the pillow.”

Shisui had honestly just assumed there wasn’t one. He leans up, lets Zabuza slide it in behind him, and eases back onto it with a groan. Thinks, because his head is still a little fuzzy, and asks, “You knew I was from Konoha?”

“I'm not an idiot,” Zabuza says, on the edge of withering. “I pulled you out of the Nakano missing your eyes, and there's only one village along that river. Same village that’s known for its dojutsus. Putting the pieces together wasn’t hard.”

Not hard, maybe, but clever. Logical, and Shisui has to laugh a little, pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead. Breathes for a moment, trying to think, trying to plan, and they're going to go back to Konoha. He’s going to limp in through the gates and right to Sarutobi's office and tell him what Danzō did. Tell him that Danzō was the one to undercut their work to stop the coup, and Shisui almost can't believe it, but at the same time he can. Danzō has always been interested in Kotoamatsukami, and him taking it for himself is probably to be expected.

“Who are you?” he asks belatedly, turning his face towards where Zabuza must be sitting. Can't see anything, of course, but he can hear the faint shift of a chair, the rustle of cloth as Zabuza leans forward.

“Momochi Zabuza,” he says, and his hand catches one of Shisui's, pulls it up. Cold metal meets Shisui's fingertips, and he traces the mist-marks engraved in the hitai-ate, takes in the lack of deep scar that should be there.

“Aren’t you a missing-nin?” he jokes. “I think this is false advertising.”

There's a snort, amused, and Shisui can't resist the urge to let his fingers slide down, meeting soft hair and then warm skin. Cheek, he thinks, tracing the edge of a brow, an eye, a sharp cheekbone, and then down to an equally sharp jaw. He can't remember Zabuza’s picture in the Bingo Book, can't even remember if there was one, and it’s a burning point of frustration in his chest. Uchiha rely so heavily on eyesight, on vision to fight, and Shisui's never trained himself to do anything beyond the basics without sight.

“If you’re getting to second base with my face, I think you should probably tell me your name.” Zabuza sounds amused more than annoyed, though, and Shisui laughs a little, doesn’t lift his hand.

“Uchiha Shisui,” he returns. “Unless you guessed that already, too.”

“No shit?” Zabuza laughs, rough, and leans in a little. “You're the one who made Ao practically piss himself? Fuck, that was good work.”

“Did I? That was cool of me.” Shisui shifts a little, trying to get comfortable, and winces faintly when his leg jars. “Who is Ao again?”

Zabuza snickers, even as he reaches out to knock his knuckles against Shisui's shoulder. “Quit fucking moving, at least until I get that leg splinted. And I'm going to tell Ao that you said that next time I see him. his face will be fucking _exquisite_. He still can't shut up about catching a glimpse of you and you don’t even remember him—that’s _perfect_.”

Shisui waves an airy hand, careful not to smack Zabuza in the face as he does it. “What can I say? So many people fall in love with me at first sight, I lose track.”

“Yeah, and that big head of yours can _definitely_ fit through doorways.”

“Hey!” Shisui protests. “You liked my face enough to pull me out of a river! So there. Another shinobi madly in love with me.”

With a snort, Zabuza lightly shoves his head back into the pillow. “Shut up, I only fished you out because you interrupted Haku's training, floating around like a damned log and almost knocking him off his feet.”

Shisui winces. He can't have been a pretty sight at that point, and given how young Haku sounds, Shisui probably scarred him. though maybe not, if he’s from Kiri like Zabuza.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, and curls his fingers around Zabuza’s wrist, squeezing. “I really mean it. Thank you for saving me.”

There's a pause, and then Zabuza strokes a thumb over the back of Shisui's hand, a light touch. “Go to sleep,” Zabuza says. “Looks like you got fucked over pretty hard. Going back to your village probably won't un-fuck things too quickly.”

“It will be a start, though,” Shisui says, and means it. Nothing about the situation with the Uchiha is good, and Danzō just made it worse, but—fixing it will be worthwhile. Konoha can't lose the Uchiha, and the Uchiha can't lose Konoha. The village was built for a reason, and Shisui believes that with all of his heart. Believes that they're better for it, for the support system and the safety net when things go bad. Even if parts of the system are bad, they can be ripped out, torn down, rebuilt.

Shisui isn't blindly loyal to anything. He knows that Konoha has plenty of flaws. But he can still have hope that it will be better, too.

“I just want things to change,” he says, and feels Zabuza go still under his touch. “And if I have to be the one to change them, I will.”

There's a soft breath, a pause. Then Zabuza laughs, quiet and almost raw. “Not just a pretty face, huh?” he asks, and pulls away. His palm covers Shisui's forehead briefly, and then he grunts in satisfaction and rises to his feet. “Your fever’s pretty much gone. I’ll go get you some food, see if you can keep it down. Can you stay awake that long?”

“Sure,” Shisui says, a little confused by the sudden change but willing to roll with it. “Is this the part of the romance novel where you fall madly in love with my fragile beauty as you nurse me back to health?”

“If I want fragile beauty I’ll look at a sunrise,” Zabuza says dryly. “You're just a pain in my ass.”

“Well, sure, I can be that too if that’s how you like it,” Shisui says cheerfully, because it’s _rare_ to find someone who will give it back as good as they get it. Itachi doesn’t quite have the sense of humor for that. “I'm happiest on top, you know.”

Zabuza laughs, easy and amused. “Ask me again when you’ve got two working legs,” he says. “I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t run away.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself,” Shisui promises, and the door clicks shut as Zabuza snorts. Shisui listens to his retreating footsteps, then breathes out, curling his hands over his eyes and breathing out in a shaky rush. He feels…steadier. Joking with Zabuza helped. But—

Back to Konoha. That’s going to be a trial, and not just because Itachi saw him commit suicide, was left to carry the burden of spying by himself. Shisui _remembers_ his hazy certainty that Danzō was right, that there was no stopping the coup, and—there's still a thread of that in his chest, maybe. An idea.

It doesn’t mean he’s going to stop trying to stop it, though. He’ll get his eyes back, maybe knife Danzō while he’s at it. _Change_ things, because the people of Konoha need to see that the Uchiha aren’t a threat, that there's no way they would have brought the Kyuubi down on the village they all share.

He’s still lying there in the same place when the door opens again, and Zabuza steps in, carrying something that smells like chicken and broth and sesame. Shisui breathes it in, and it makes him think of his mother’s rice porridge, thick and salty on his tongue. His mouth waters, and he sits up, already reaching for the bowl. It’s easy to stay still and brood, but—simple things are good enough to focus on right now. Like a joke with a new acquaintance, or a good meal.

“Thanks,” he says, as warm porcelain settles into the cup of his fingers, a spoon just touching the side of his thumb.

“Thank Haku, he’s the one that had the kitchen start it,” Zabuza says dismissively, and Shisui pauses in surprise. Zabuza’s tagalong seemed to hate him, or at least ignored him pretty thoroughly. But a gesture like that—that’s _kind_.

Then again, Zabuza’s proven he’s not quite the heartless monster his Bingo Book entry makes him out to be, either.

“Eat,” Zabuza prods, and there's a step like he’s walking away. A moment later, a warm breeze curls across Shisui's skin as he opens a window. “If you want to leave by tomorrow, you need to at least be strong enough to stand up by the morning.”

“I’ll manage,” Shisui says determinedly, but he takes a bite of the jook. It’s hot and just seasoned enough, spreads across his tongue and slips down his throat, and he moans fervently.

There's a snicker, and Zabuza steps closer, drops something in Shisui's lap. “If you sound like that just eating I might _really_ take you up on that offer later,” he says.

“Please do,” Shisui says around another mouthful, already reaching for what Zabuza dropped. Familiar leather meets his fingers, and he skims a touch up the sheath of his tantō, finds the hilt and breathes out in pure relief. He still has his sword. It was his father’s, and Kagami's before him. Shisui's carried it every day since he graduated from the Academy, and he’d been determinedly not thinking about how he’d lost it in the river. But he didn’t, he still has it, and—

Know that kicks the hope in his chest one notch higher. Things are bad, but there's every chance they’ll get better.

“Cleaned some of the river gunk out of it,” Zabuza says, offhand, and of course he would. He’s a swordsman, too, and he knows the value of a blade better than most. “It’s a pretty thing. Better take good care of it.”

“I plan to,” Shisui says, and smooths his fingers over the inlay on the sheath. It rests against his spine when he carries the tantō, and it would have rested against Kagami's once, too. Tobirama’s Hiraishin seal is set into the leather in Uchiha blue, and Shisui presses his thumb to it, breathes in.

His family has always, _always_ been loyal to Konoha. Because of that loyalty, Shisui is going to save it. No coup, no persecution of the Uchiha for something they haven’t done. He’ll get his eyes back, and he’ll keep moving forward towards what Konoha _could_ be.

“You're taking jobs, right?” he asks Zabuza, and the tone is light but he’s not even slightly joking. “That’s a thing missing-nin do? How would you like to come play my hired muscle for a bit?”

Zabuza pauses, footsteps hesitating briefly, and then makes a sound of amusement as he drops back into his chair. “You think you can afford me?” he asks lazily.

“I think I can convince you,” Shisui returns, and gives him an inviting grin.

“Try that again when you can walk,” Zabuza says, and then, “Fuck it, I'm out of work right now anyway. Yeah, I’ll play muscle. We taking over Konoha or just fucking it up?”

“Little of column A, little of column B?” Shisui says, and tries to make it charming.

Zabuza laughs. “I'm down,” he agrees. “Hope you're prepared to hand out some bonuses, though.”

“Bonuses, or _bonuses_?” Shisui can't wink right now, but he sure as hell can waggle his eyebrows.

“Shut up and eat,” Zabuza tells him, but he’s laughing, so Shisui is willing to count it as a win.


End file.
